“I am the bread of life,” says Jesus.  The bread of life.  This is a story where the seven signs we are going through this summer meet the seven “I am” statements of Jesus in the Gospel of John.  Get to know them with me, won’t you?  The bread of life.  The light of the world.  The good shepherd. The gate.  The resurrection and the life.  The way the true and the life.  The vine.

We have said that the seven signs deal in everyday matters of life.  Provision at a party.  Illness.  Disability (inability to walk/see).  Bread (and fish, because, protein).  Stormy weather (literal and figurative) next week.  Death and life.

We have said that the signs point to something beyond themselves.  Not that the signs are insignificant – they’re wonderful!  They point, however, to something even more wonderful.  They have a significance beyond themselves.

And really, don’t we all want to have a significance beyond ourselves?  Don’t we all want to know what it means to really live?  Not only know but be ever more coming to know in our hearts what it really means to live?  No matter our circumstances or what stage of life we’re in.

“I am the bread of life,” says Jesus.

I remember my father once talking about how people can say, “Jesus is a crutch.”  This is the type of thing that may be said by people who oppose Jesus or are seeking to explain their rejection of/ignoring of Jesus.  He’s just a crutch.  I don’t need it.  As far as this argument goes, my father rejected it as being based on a false premise – namely, Jesus as a crutch.  Jesus never said “I am the crutch of life” for good reason.  A crutch implies something that is temporary; needed only when one is injured or recovering from an injury.  I’m very much my father’s son when it comes to rejecting false premises and making sure that our premises are sound.

So here’s the premise, and we’re really getting to the heart of the matter right at the beginning.  Jesus is the bread of life.  Jesus is the person necessary for life lived the way that human beings have been created by God to live.  False premises are all around us.  I was reading something this week (in the context of a video game I play on my phone, of all places) where something began a rather lengthy argument on free speech with this statement – “If we all agree in the right to be left alone…”  Right away, I thought, “Whoever said we have the inherent right to be left alone?”  This is where I stand in Christ alone.  This doesn’t mean that I’m alone, but that this truth is found in Christ alone- the one and only.  We have been created to live in a loving relationship/union/communion with God through the birth/life/death/resurrection/ascension/promised return of the Word of Life.  This is what we have been made for.  Anything else is vanity.  A chasing after wind.  To believe that human beings were not made to depend or rely on something outside themselves is to believe in the falsehood of so-called rugged individualism. 

I need Jesus like I need bread to live.  Jesus gives me life abundant as I depend on him and trust in him.

“I am the bread of life,” says Jesus.  The 1^st “I am” statement comes on the heels of this story of miraculous feeding.  Bread and fish.  We’ve heard of Jesus providing wine at a wedding party and spoke of abundant grace.  We’ve heard about Jesus speaking recovery for a boy who was at the point of death.  Jesus’ words (“Go, your son shall live.”) were trusted by that royal official as soon as he spoke them.  “You say it, I trust it,” we said. We heard about a man paralyzed for 38 years being made able to walk.  We heard Jesus speaking for the 1^st time in John’s Gospel about the unity, the interdependence, the reliance, the love between him and the Father.  We have been made to live in that unity and interdependence and reliance and love.   So – “After this, Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Tiberias.  A large crowd kept following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick.  Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples.”  While the signs point beyond themselves, there is significance in the signs.  “When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?”  He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do.” (6:5-6)  In our lives, Jesus will give us opportunities to show our trust.  It’s amazing to think that we might even delight and amaze Jesus by the trust that we show in him.  Remember the centurion who said to Jesus, “You just say the word and I know it will happen.”  Jesus was amazed.  I’d like for us to amaze Jesus by our trust.  Philip does not do so well here, and neither do we at times.  He’s just looking at the problem. “Six months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.”  He’s looking at the problem rather than looking at Jesus saying, “We know you’ve got this Lord, just like at that wedding!”  I know you’ve got this, Lord, just like you’ve had so much in my life to bring me thus far. 

Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish.  But what are they among so many people?”  Andrew does a little better.  His trust is little, but he’s bringing what’s available to Jesus – this boy with his lunch.  Famous story told in all four Gospels.  His faith is small, but he and the boy come to Jesus with at least some measure of trust in Jesus being able to do far more than we could ever ask or imagine – and that we might play some part in it, however seemingly small that part may be.  Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.”  Jesus’ followers are involved in the organization here.  Get things organized, says Jesus.  Sometimes this might be as simple as setting up a space for people to sit down and eat, sit down and hear.  “Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks, he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted.  When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, ‘Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.’  So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets.  When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, ‘This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.’” (6:11-14)

“I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their own people,” was the promise God gave through Moses.  “I will put my words in the mouth of the prophet, who shall speak to them everything I command.” (Deut 18:18)  Deliverance is at hand.  Deliverance is not going to come through people appropriating Jesus for their own purposes – be they personal or political.  “When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.” (6:15)  Seizing Jesus for political purposes is not going to bring about deliverance. It’s going to do damage.  Deliverance is going to come by God giving of himself in grace upon grace. 

“I am the bread of life,” says Jesus.  What are we to do then?  Listen to Him.  “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.  For it is on him that the Father has set his seal.” (6:27)  The answer comes back from the crowd, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” (6:28)  Jesus answers, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” (6:29)  Belief not simply as intellectual assent.  Belief as seeing, hearing, remembering, praising. Belief as devotion to, entrusting one’s life to.  Belief as our desire to abide in, live in, rest in, and hunger for.  Hunger for the bread of God, which comes down from heaven and is freely offered, giving life to the world.

We’re talking about real life.  In this is life.  In this is love, not that we loved God, but that God loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.  In this is love and light and life.  That thing for which we hunger.  That thing which we seek in all kinds of different places.  That thing which we are called here to make the foundational underpinning truth in our life.  I’m saying that thing, but I should be saying that person.  That bread.  That bread of life. The one in whom we have a life now.  The one who promises to raise those who believe in him up on the last day.  “Give us this bread always,” says the crowd.  It’s good to know what you want.  They’re still talking about actual bread at this point this is a good prayer to make.  “Lord, give us this bread always.”  It’s good to know what we want.  This was Jesus’ question to people so often, wasn’t it?  What are you looking for?  Whom are you looking for?  What do you want me to do for you?  “Give us this bread always,” Lord.

Abundant life is the promise.  It’s not about how much stuff we have or money we have.  Abundant life is represented here by barley loaves (not even fancier wheat loaves) and fish.  Someone has said this about this story: “We are reminded once again that abundant life can be as simple as the basic necessities to sustain life. It is abundance reconfigured through the concept of relationship. Life cannot be abundant if it is not grounded in intimacy and relationship, and security.”    “I am the bread of life,” says Jesus.  Let “Give us this bread always,” always be our reply, living lives that are turned toward him.  What does this look like? It looks like our worship of God together.  It looks like our listening to God in God’s word.  It looks like our prayers of praise and thanks and help.  It looks like sharing meals with one another.  It looks like doing what we can to make sure people are not going hungry. 

Living a life turned toward Jesus looks like accepting the invitation to come to His table.  We’re going to do that next week, and may the coming days be a time of preparation for us.  Someone has described us coming to Jesus’ table as a repeated altar call to conversion that is ongoing, a fresh committing of ourselves and entrusting ourselves to the Bread of Life, on whom we depend.  Can’t stop.  Won’t stop.  Rowan Williams, Welsh, Anglican bishop/theologian, former Archbishop of Canterbury, described the church in this way:

“Here we are then… the people who have not found the nerve to walk away.  And that is perhaps the best definition we could have of the Church.  We are the people who have not had the nerve to walk away; who have not had the nerve to say in the face of Jesus, “All right, I’m healthy.  I’m not hungry.  I’ve finished.  I’ve done.”  We’re here as hungry people, we are here because we cannot heal and complete ourselves; we’re here to eat together at the table of the Lord, as he sits at dinner in this house, and is surrounded by these disreputable, unfinished, unhealthy, hungry, sinful, but at the end of the day almost honest people, gathered with him to find renewal, to be converted, and to change.”

May we be among that number, and may this be true for all of us.

Amen